


Dr Tony and Mr Stark

by hweianime



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, BAMF Tony, Confused Steve Rogers, Identity Porn, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hweianime/pseuds/hweianime
Summary: "Hey," Steve begins, nervously, "Do you guys, have you guys noticed there's something a little off about Mr Stark?"Bruce shrugged. Natasha stayed thoughtfully silent. Sam didn't really know Tony well enough to answer."Well you gotta be a little more specific, Captain," Clint says, "There's always something off about Stark.""It's not that, I mean, not," Steve hesitated, looking up at the sky like somehow Jarvis was listening in despite calling for this meeting to be out of the tower. He looks paranoid, a little crazy, as he leans in to whisper, "Have you ever considered maybe, Tony seems like... two different people sometimes?"





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

"You're Ironman."

Avengers' resident billionaire dropped his screwdriver. "I'm.." The man's eyes are wide and startled at the unexpected accusation from their resident female super spy. " _Excuse me_?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, "You should really come clean." Is all she replies with, and it comes out much nicer and assuring than they both expect it to be, "No one is going to be upset."

He furrowed his brows, confused, "Um, well that's all very nice and all but I'm not Ironman."

The redhead shook her head, "Stark, I won't tell anyone if you're not ready, but don't even try that bullshit on me." She turns on the sad, serious eyes on him. He wouldn't call them puppy dog eyes, per say, too dangerous to describe someone like her, more like the eyes of a betrayed knife-wielding ninja cat. Yeah, let's go with that.

The genius put his hands up in surrender, "I'm serious Ms Romanoff! I'm not Ironman! Just a plain old boring everyday run of the mill every day billionaire!"

Natasha's eyes glinted in the exact way the Stark genius knew meant knives would be coming up soon. He shuffled nervously closer to his workshop desk and wondered briefly why he hadn't thought of designing an anti-knife force field or something. That would have been  _awesome_ to have right about now. "Now Ms Romanoff," he tries, "why don't we just take a deep breath and-"

"Nat please stop harassing Mr Stark." The metallic voice of Ironman spoke up amusedly. Now it was the spy's turn to drop something.

She whirls around to see Ironman leaning against the doorway, giving her a little wave as her eyes widened. "As much as I'm flattered you think I'm secretly a genius billionaire, Mr Stark's ass could hardly fit into my armor."

Stark squawked in outrage, "Are you calling my perfectly sculpted ass fat you unappreciative, overpaid toaster?"

Ironman tilted his head, pretending to check the man out, "Sculpted is right." He jeered provokingly, "No fat, only bone is what I see sir."

"Just because I don't have a porno bubble butt like yours-" Anton spluttered, deeply offended, before glancing at a rather baffled looking super spy. "-uh, Miss Romanoff? Are you quite alright?"

"But,  _how_?" She asks, her face is blank, her tone is dead but yet both Starks could somehow feel her shock. Clearly she doesn't get things wrong often.

Oh dear lord if she ever finds out the truth one of them will probably have to die.

"I mean... I did fly the suit during Afghanistan." Stark tries to console.

"He also built his own suit for emergencies." Ironman adds drolly, it sounds even drier in the suit, "So you can be forgiven for making the um, misconception."

The last Stark heir inwardly groans and makes a 'what the fuck' face at Ironman. You do not outright tell a woman is mistaken. Especially if that woman is the Black Widow. That is just pleading for a widow bite in the face.

And they have been born fucking lucky to have faces as pretty as they are.

Natasha looks at both of them, eyes narrowed, pinning, reassessing. "This isn't over." She suddenly says, before turning her heel and leaving the lab.

The doors to the workshop close with a soft 'snick' sound and they wait a minute or so before talking.

"... So, that was pretty close." Ironman says, and the other doubled over in laughter.

"Oh my god," He gasped, "She thought, that  _we_  were, and  _you_  were,"

"To be fair, she wasn't exactly wrong." Ironman replies but the other could tell the hero was this close to losing it as well.

They both stare at each other.

"Scotch?" Tony Stark offers as he lifts the head plate up.

"You read my mind." Anton Stark smirks.

* * *

It starts like this.

* * *

Howard Stark was frankly overjoyed when he heard the unexpected news. He had barrelled into the room with a wide grin and zoned onto his tired wife and the bundles in her arms like one of his recently created homing missiles. Howard's always prided himself in his plans and blueprints and failsafes, but he had never foreseen this.

Not one but two. Two babies. Two boys. Two heirs.

"What should we call the other one?" Maria asks softly, she cradles Anthony Edward Stark in her arms as a nurse gently plucks out the other one to hand to the awestruck new father. Howard looks at the tiny squishy human he had helped make and feels pride. They will be his greatest creations.

"Antonio." He finally decides, "You'll be Antonio Steven Stark."

* * *

Tony and Anton Stark were identical only in face.

Tony was the oldest, he was the genius, the polite, shy, quiet one that liked to tinker and ask questions. Anton was the youngest, the smart-mouth, the confident loud firecracker that liked trouble and explosions. But it wasn't like they hadn't also had their share of similarities too. They were both bright, intelligent little boys that shared the same burning curiosity in their veins, the same hero worship of Captain America and the same need to please their father.

They also had the same problem of their father consistently being disappointed at them. The same shadow of some hero they could never possibly hope to be.

Tony was too quiet, too shy, too  _sensitive_ , he needed to man up like his brother. Stark men were made of iron. They do not cry Tony.

Anton wasn't as smart or clever with his hands as his brother, he had words but nothing to back them up. Stark men were made of iron. They do not lose Anton.

Captain America would be disappointed in both of them. That was also another thing they had in common.

They would have been better as one person. Two halves so dependent on each other that they were visibly worse off without their counterpart to ground them. So Anton taught Tony how to lie, how to own the room and how to make it till you break it, he taught him to fake confidence, to bluster and to roll the insults off his skin like water. And in turn Tony taught Anton how he made his circuit board when he was four and his first engine when he was six, he taught him how to draw blueprints properly, how to tell a piece of code from a piece of garbage and how to step down when you go too far.

That was another thing they shared.

Each other.

* * *

It's impossible for anyone to tell who's who between the Stark twins save for the twins themselves. They smile the same way and they chatter with the same bright, polite manner and they even move in perfect sync when they want to.

Maria used to be able to tell them apart, before they decided to change themselves, to become a better whole. Howard stopped trying altogether, if one was in trouble both were in trouble as far as he was concerned. Jarvis and his wife Ana was the best at figuring out though. They weren't perfect what with their age and failing eyesight but the couple tried and gave it as good as they got. It was more than they'd ever gotten from anyone else at least.

But behind closed bedroom doors, they were no longer the charming Stark twins. It was just Tony who hated galas and wanted to read his newest Captain America comic book and Anton who cackled incessantly about how he had managed to pour a whole cup of wine in some snooty lady's purse when she wasn't looking. Anton would regale Tony about all the interesting gossip he'd managed to overhear while Tony half listened as he read. Then Tony would point out something interesting in his book which would turn the conversation to more interesting debates like if Captain America would defeat Darth Vader in battle or which theory for time travel is better. And if they had a really bad day, they would curl up in the same bed together and whisper their secrets and worries and doubts before they finally went to sleep.

Tony and Anton never really cared if no one could distinguish the pair, if anything it was just another thing they knew more about then the rest of the world. Their own little secret which was only known by the two.

* * *

When Tony was fifteen he had already been accepted into MIT. When Anton was fifteen, he had already had sex twice.

It wasn't clear what achievements Howard was least impressed with.

When Anton was seventeen he was accepted into MIT to pursue business, engineering and marketing. He was already one of the most popular kids there. When Tony was seventeen he was already working on his third doctorate and was playing with many other degrees. He had made exactly one friend and one robotic arm named DUM-E.

Howard had found fault in both of them.

When Tony was nineteen he graduated MIT. He asked to stay another year to help with research as an excuse not to leave his brother. It didn't work. When Anton was nineteen his first real scandal in the form of a sex tape came out. Well, it was his, but everyone thought it was Tony's. Anton felt guilt about the unwanted increase of attention toward his more introverted half and learned the idea of discretion.

Howard was too busy looking for a fantasy to care.

When Tony and Anton were twenty-one, their parents died in a car crash. They became the heads of Stark Industries overnight. They finished off six bottles of their father's most expensive bottles of alcohol that same night.

Howard, well, Howard was fucking dead.

* * *

They were a united front. Always together, never apart. From childhood, to adulthood save for those few years during college. They were stronger, smarter, _better_.

Anton would lead the press by the nose with a winning smile, a glass of scotch in one hand and his brother by his side, adding any technical jargon he'd missed. Tony would shine in his research and inventions, his own pride shown to the clients and his fellow scientists with his brother oozing in the real charm to smooth the path to a successful negotiation.

The public loved the whole together thing. The concept of rich genius playboy twins never seemed to grow old, and there was barely a photograph in any media that had the two by themselves. Anton, the Merchant of Death and his brother Tony, his Scythe Maker by his side. The offense and the defense. Always together, never apart.

Some people commented about their closeness. Accusations of incest and forbidden love that never seemed to go away no matter how much money was thrown at them. It didn't help that people kept claiming they've been invited up for a night as the meat in that Stark sandwich. And it really didn't help that at least half those claims had been true.

But still, Anton and Tony, Tony and Anton, they were two halves of the same handsome coin. Always together, never apart. They still enjoyed sleeping together at night, finding comfort in their touch, talking about the day everyday since no one else seemed to stand listening to them for as long, and just being in the same room as each other never failed to give them a sense of silent reassurance. Always together, never apart.

So it wasn't really a surprise when they ended up both in the same cell in Afghanistan.

* * *

"Oh god, oh god, shit, fuck, shit, Tony," Anton mutters under his breath, his hands are trembling violently as he helps some random stranger practically shove a car battery in his brother's chest. He's never been good with stuff like this, he went completely vegan for six months because he saw twenty minutes of one of those animal torture fast food documentaries. He would've gone longer but... Well.. Bacon.

The point of it was, Tony should be the one doing this. Tony should be the one alive and trying to stop the bleeding coming out from the fucking hole in his twin's chest. Not him. Not Anton. Because Tony could fix it. Anton... couldn't. He just, just...

* * *

"You did it." Tony congratulates weakly. He's still pale and shaken and constantly flickering his eyes downward to the mangled monstrosity that is his chest like he can't believe this is actually happening to him but he's alive and breathing and just  _alive_. "Anton you did it."

"I mean, Ginseng helped too." Anton muttered because neither twin was very good at direct praises, but that doesn't stop the man from hovering around his brother worriedly as if the battery might suddenly self-combust for no logical reason.

"Thank you Ginseng." Tony replied quietly.

"It's Yinsen. And you need rest." The other man replies, "They'll be coming back to check on us soon."

"Tell me the truth doc," Tony whispered, "Will I ever be beautiful again?"

Anton snorted despite himself, "You moron. We share the same face."

"All hope is lost." The older twin despaired.

Anton waits until his brother finally loses consciousness once more before he lets himself breathe again. Tony is safe. He helped. He saved him. He almost didn't. Tony was safe. Tony barely made it. For a second he hadn't. For a second Anton almost lost the best thing he ever had. Oh god. Anton trembles as he runs to the corner of the cell and vomits what little contents in his stomach he has.

* * *

Tony was.. well 'not happy' was an understatement but it was all he could come up with as he finds himself stuck in a harsh cycle of building for terrorists, secretly building a way out, building a rapport with Yinsen and getting water boarded. Not that anyone else was faring much better. Anton, while not as fast as he, had a way with things that go boom, so both Starks had found themselves with possibly an even tighter deadline than if only one of them was useful. Maybe. Believe it or not but terrorists were kind of dicks.

The older Stark twin gasped for air desperately, thrashing as much as he could just to be able to get barely a lungful of much needed oxygen before once again he was pushed face first in the dirty water. Scratch that. They were total dicks.

"You sick fuck!" Anton screams at the sidelines. It's a thing the torturing bastards like to do, make one twin suffer while the other watches. It's a good strategy, Tony can admit, hurt one to make the other move faster. It's certainly successful, Anton was always a bit lazy with his own designs, and Tony's fairly sure that the gun prototype in his twin's hand would be done in record time. "You fuckers, I swear to, stop it! I'm done! Time!"

The Ten Rings asshole dunking him, pulled Tony's hair back painfully. Not that Tony could bring it in him to care when he had sweet, sweet oxygen-

_"Glrblelblm!"_

His face was pushed in unexpectedly, and water immediately filled his nose and mouth in his surprise. He was forced to stay there for what seemed like forever and a half before he was pushed back up. This time he was more wary with his freedom.

"That one was for good luck." The torturer jeered as he left the room, the guards replacing him in his stead. Anton was suddenly beside him, pale and furious. Someone must have unchained him from the table then.

"I hope he falls into a well." Anton hissed as he helps a shaking Tony up from the ground. Tony gave a weak laugh at that.

* * *

Anton just barely manages to carry Tony with him. Tony who had passed out from exhaustion at finishing the final touches of Anton's arbor, who had been unprotected and shot in the fight. There's sweat pouring into Anton's eyes, tears pouring out of his eyes, everything feels hot and close, too close.

They break out.

Yinsen didn't make it.

* * *

Just because they were twins, that didn't mean that they didn't fight. It doesn't happen often, after all they practically share everything with each other, however when they did, well. Let's just say no one wins in a war.

If pressed, the twins would say they've had four major fights. The first was about who stole the last cookie when they were eight. That lasted two weeks and was only resolved because Howard had called them babies who needed to grow the hell up.

The second was a fight on who Jarvis loved the best. It was a very Cold War type situation which lasted for most of childhood really. It finally ended after Tony and Anton drafted up a long and biding contract in metallic red pencil on the exact terms and agreement for Jarvis' custody when they were eleven. Jarvis had framed that piece of paper proudly on his bedroom wall, where it remains even after his death.

The third fight was about Rhodey.  _That_  one was brutal.

Rhodey was Tony's roommate in college. In less than two weeks, a roommate had become a friend and in a month, a friend had been elevated to best friend. The brother from another mother. Tony's grumpy giant honey bear.

Needless to say Anton  _loathed_  Rhodey at the time. He seethed every time Tony brought him up like a jealous lover and the first time the two ever met, Anton had straight out declared Rhodey as his arch-nemesis over brunch.  _Brunch_.

Tony was less than impressed.

Scratch that he had been absolutely livid.

"I can't have friends but you can, is that it?!" He had shouted when Rhodey had left early.

"That guy is using you!" Anton hissed back. "He's probably trying to get into your underage pants and fuck the money out of our trust fund."

Tony reared back like he had been slapped. Anton quickly realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. "That's not what I- Tony, I didn't mean it like-"

"No. I see," Tony says icily, "Because I'm the twin with no personality, there's just no way anyone would actually want to be friends with me except to grab what's in my wallet." He laughs bitterly, "Oh wait, I forgot I'm also the smart one too- can't forget about that. People could want me for my brain too if I'm lucky enough."

"Tony." Anton looks devastated, every bit the younger brother that he never tries to be.

"No. No fuck you," Tony stands up from the table furiously, "I- I can't even look at you right now you asshole. I need to go check on Rhodey and see if I can salvage back my first ever real friend and then maybe we'll talk."

"Tony, wait don't-"

They didn't speak for half year. It was like torture. But pride was a terrible thing.

In the end it was Rhodey who intervened.

"Okay this is getting ridiculous." He says one morning. Tony had been staring forlornly at his phone again and it didn't take someone of Stark's IQ to know who he was thinking of calling. "I am not the handmaiden that the prince falls in love with and willingly gets cut off from their disapproving family before running off into the sunset to open up a diner in the woods."

"Is- is that a reference?" Tony asks, "Because I'm kind of hoping this is the one reference I didn't get, instead of the fact that clearly you've finally gotten a crippling addiction by watching too many soap operas on your laptop."

"One, fuck you, Love Me Sweetiebell is a classic-"

"I have literally never heard of that in my life."

"-and two, you are calling your brother. Even if he is kind of a massive dick."

Tony smiles weakly, "It's a family thing." He quips.

" _Tony_."

"I am not going to- hey what the fuck Rhodey, give it back!"

Rhodey had snatched Tony's phone the moment the younger man had pointed it dramatically at him, and ran. "Not a chance Tones!" He hollered as he furiously looks through Tony's contacts while getting chased circles around their dining table, "I'm not going to take another second o- did you really list Anton as 'The Twin with a Smaller Dick'?" The man shakes his head and hits the call button.

Anton will never admit anything but dislike for Rhodey. But he had been pathetically grateful for him at that time. And even more pathetically grateful when Rhodes, now a colonel, swoops in and saves them both from dying in the Afghanistan desert.

"Saving your asses is getting to be a full time job," Rhodey grins.

Anton gives him the finger before he passes out.

(The fourth fight was about Captain America. But more about that later.)

* * *

Pepper Potts was the best thing that's happened to the Stark twins.

Well, that's not entirely true. Coffee was probably the best thing to happened to the twins. And Jarvis. And Rhodey- though that was debatable for Anton. But Pepper was definitely up there.

She was pretty, and patient, and once she finally got a decent footing around the whole billionaire genius twin thing, she became the snarky badass in heels who took no shit. Tony loved her. Anton was in love with her.

"Wait. What?"

Anton shuffled his feet uncomfortably, which meant that Tony needed to put down the wrench and pull all focus onto his brother because nervous shuffling meant feelings, genuine ones too. "That wasn't what I meant." Anton backtracked. "I meant that I may have... emotions. Toward Pepper. That may or may not be slightly stronger than what I feel for one night stands."

"So what you're saying is that you've fallen arse over teakettle over Miss Potts." Tony translated easily and with a shit eating smile. Anton hates that smile.

"You are not allowed to sleep with British Kyle anymore. Seriously, yesterday was 'fancying a nice hot cuppa tea,' and today is 'arse over teakettle.' What next? Will I wake up tomorrow to find you pledging your alliance to the Queen and country? Because I will not stand for such patriotic betrayal." The younger twin groans, artfully deflecting the topic. He's always been skilled at that but unfortunately Tony has decided that now would be the time to muster up all his attention span into a laser like focus and proceeds to tease him for the rest of the week.

* * *

"What?" Anton asks.

His voice is flat, restrained, which means he's this close to absolutely losing it.

Tony can't look at his brother's eyes and it hurts. For both of them. Afghanistan has broken them but what's the most unforgivable thing is that they weren't broken the same way. They are shattered mirrors with different cracks and it's like they can no longer look at each other and see their own faces anymore. Tony and Anton had always had contrasts but now it felt like they were completely separate colors. There's an armor that separates the two and that armor is Ironman.

"I said," The older twin clears his throat, "I don't want to be Tony Stark anymore." He looks at his twin, pleading, "I want to be Ironman, I want to be  _good_. To do  _good_  things and help others for once in my life."

"We can do good things too," Anton replies angrily, "Billionaire playboy philanthropists, remember?!"

"Oh how could I forget?" Tony mocks harshly, all meekness gone and bitter self-hatred coloring his tone, "You think we can actually atone for the shit we've done by throwing money at it? I'm tired of making weapons Anton! I'm tired of being associated with war and death and building fucking bombs that are used to try and kill us with."

Anton sneered, "Then what do you want Tony, Huh? To go off and fly around and play hero in the suit- because that's not feasible! What about StarkIndustries? What about our stocks? What.." The younger twin takes a few deep breathes before looking into his brother's eyes, lost and so fucking mad and most of all betrayed, "What about me Tones?"

Tony pulled Anton in for a hug. "You moron." He says weary and fond as his younger counterpart immediately hugs him back. "As if I could leave your lazy ass alone. Look, I'm not saying I want to leave Anton, I just, I just don't know if I have the strength to keep up being Tony Stark anymore. This whole thing with the Ten Rings, and my heart, it's... I'm not as strong as you Anton."

"You are strong," Anton protests annoyed, but his voice sounds suspiciously choked. Not that Tony's doing much better. "You protected me from those bastards, if you hadn't decided to be such a stupid idiot and pretended to be me when I clearly didn't need the help-"

"They were going to torture you Anton, I just couldn't," Tony protested quietly, "I couldn't just sit there and watch them hurt you."

"But I had to." Anton sobbed. "I had to watch  _you_  Tony. It's, it's not fair! You just keep doing shit like that and you just keep getting hurt and now you want to be some fucking hero whose going to die."

"Gee, thanks for the confidence bro." Tony deadpanned but his dry wit was ruined by the wet tears running down his face.

"You are going to die!" Anton wailed, its dramatic as fuck but it's a hundred percent genuine fear in there so Tony just hugs his brother tighter. He feels worn as he looks at his sobbing younger brother. Worn and exhausted and far too frayed around the edges but this decision feels right, it settles on him like the armor and Tony knows he will not back down on this.

He's going to be Ironman.

* * *

They make it work. They always do.

Anton Stark dies in Afghanistan. Anton Stark becomes Tony Stark. Tony Stark becomes Ironman. It's brilliant.

Rhodey and Pepper do not agree.

"Okay, hold up," Rhodey says for the nth time. Pepper looks close to stabbing everyone with her heels. "I get that Tony wants to, uh, stop being Tony. I mean, I don't actually get it but Tony promised to explain that mess to me later."

Tony fiddled with his hands awkwardly. "Promise, more like forced to agree under duress." He mutters snidely, because if there's one thing the Starks all have, other than amazing intellect, it's the inherent need to avoid all gooey emotions when possible.

"What was that?" Rhodey asked with faux sweetness, "Did I hear something?"

"Nothing!" Tony eeped before frantically fiddling with his fingers like they were the puzzle to unlock the secrets of Atlantis. Anton side eyed his brother suspiciously, whatever the other man had on Tony clearly was embarrassing enough that he didn't know about. Because Tony may be the shy one but that's like saying a house fire is not as hot as a bushfire. The man is still pretty shameless is all he's saying.

"But what I don't get," Rhodey continues, "is why  _you,_ " he points at Anton, "have to be  _him_." Points back to Tony, like somehow the concept was so hard to understand they needed visual cues.

"It makes sense." Tony sulks, and now it was Pepper's turn to burst. Which was bad. Because Rhodes may have military training, but Pep holds StarkIndustries by the balls- figuratively. And maybe a little literally.

"How does it make sense?!" She shouts. "Are you two  _high?!_  You want to fake your own death," And  _there's_  the pointing again. "Then pretend to be your brother who is the one actually pretending to be dead, just so he can go around shooting terrorists?!" Anton tries very hard not to roll his eyes, they've explained themselves twice already, there was no need to do a step by step hysterical commentary on the game plan. Tony must have caught sight of his suffering expression because now the older twin was trying equally as hard to suppress his snickers.

It felt... nice. Like the old days.

"Anton's a better liar." Tony explains. Again. "He'll do the whole mourning schtick better than I ever could."

"And I couldn't be myself because everyone knows I'm a genius, but I'm about a level and a half lower than Tony." Anton adds, "It would be much more convincing if it was Tony designing the armor instead of me."

"Ironman's identity would be a secret between us so no one could target you guys as well," Tony tacks on enthusiastically, his face, usually so worn down since Afghanistan, even before that really, was earnestly bright and smiling. Anton personally would have been a bit more elaborate, pressing that argument with multiple scenarios where Pepper and Rhodey, even Happy, could be in danger because of them.

Tony oversimplified, as he tends to do in matters like this. It's always straight to 'You're wrong' without explaining why, or 'This way is better' without being bothered to justify unless prompted. His brain moves too fast to consider social niceties most of the time, but it was also sometimes too fast to express anything but his own genuine emotions.

Usually a weakness in business but for some baffling reason it was a strength with friends.

Neither Anton nor Tony understood it well, they just knew that it's effective. And it still is if the way Rhodey slumps over, defeated and annoyed is any indication. Pepper too looks like she's faltering, so Anton steps up his game as well. Rhodey is easy when it comes to Tony, Pepper is far less willing to jump into their shenanigans. It's partly why Anton adores her.

"Think about it Pep," Anton wheedles, "Sure the plan is a little convoluted," Pepper snorts, "But think of the benefits, you get to wrangle up only one of us instead of both of us for meetings- and how great would that be? I like the stuff on business and PR, and Tony wouldn't sulk his way through every single meeting."

"I don't sulk every single meeting." Tony sulked.

"Just the ones that aren't on R&D." Pepper muttered but she did look at Anton thoughtfully, "Which is ninety percent of them."

"Tony would become more productive now that he has more time in the lab," Anton adds, "and we've agreed we won't completely shut down our weapons industry." He looks at his twin who stares back solemnly. They've fought about this, Tony being more insistent on shutting everything down altogether, but Anton knew how the public, their stockholders, would react if they quit cold turkey. So they compromised, "Instead we'll just focus on non-lethal products like body armor, and stun guns etcetera, while also branching further into clean energy, biotechnology, medicine."

"We create to protect, to be safe." Tony murmured, "We'll still temporarily shut down everything, get the hand of the law to join forces with us for some internal cleaning and externally..." The twins shared a glance and grinned, fierce, determined and maybe a touch mad, "Well, that's what Ironman is for."

* * *

Obie was... he was the cool uncle they always had. He let them into a boardroom meeting once, he listened to their ramblings and ideas, he even once asked to use one of their designs as a product to be marketed. Tony liked Obie a lot. But Anton, Anton looked up to him.

While Tony tinkered on his projects and clung to his childhood idol Captain America, Anton had moved onto admiring real role models in his life and learning how to sell ice to Eskimos with Obie. Sometimes Tony found himself jealous at Anton's close relationship with the man, maybe even resentful when he was left behind with a father who barely looks his way and a mother whose never there, just so Anton can get all Obie's attention.

Anton was always better with his emotions. He'd gotten over trying to bend backwards for Howard first. He'd gotten over trying to get Maria to stay with them more often faster. And, something that Tony found immensely unfair, he'd gotten over Captain America. Tony was a hoarder but Anton always liked to cut the fat when he could.

So when Obie became Stane by ripping out Tony's robot heart, Tony couldn't help but wonder if the irony or metaphor or whatever messed up thing it was here, was more relevant to him or his brother, who watches, paralysed in a corner with tears in his eyes.

* * *

Maybe in a different universe Tony only had one copy of the new arc reactor and was forced to use his original one in the fight against Stane. But that was in a universe where Tony was alone and had to fight to juggle the press, the company, and Ironman, alone.

In this universe, Tony teaches Anton to create another arc reactor, because Tony always teaches Anton whenever he learns something new, and that is the reactor they use when Tony suits up to fight Stane.

Tony fights with Anton's work powering his heart and he thinks how right it feels.

Maybe alone Stane might've overpowered him. But together, he has no chance.

Stane falls.

They've won.

* * *

"I've seen the papers. I've heard the reports. That's why I want to put an end to all this wild speculation. The truth is-"

Anton makes a sweeping gesture to his right and the crowd of reporters gasp as Ironman flies down to his side. Tony in the suit waves and they all go wild.

" _This_  is Ironman."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ironman 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, heads up- no fucking idea what I'm doing here. Just... no idea.
> 
> Either way, I do hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless.

People love the Stark twins. Their names on the few household inventions they produced were always considered the best. Their phones were so far above Apple and Samsung it was laughable. And most of all, they were so much more real than any boring CEO corporate billionaire stereotype everyone can’t help but imagine in their heads.

Funny, sarcastic, banter and flirtation flows easily out of their mouths. It doesn’t hurt that they’re both handsome too.

They were part of the community. Anton especially was quite the social little bird, the twins may regularly pop into engineering clubs and universities to personally scout for prospects, but it’s Anton who loved to judge debate tournaments, Anton who once won an award for a fiction story he had written as a bet with some teenager over the internet, Anton who convinced Tony to help build a human-sized robotic dinosaur for the children’s hospital which eventually had to be given to a museum because of… well… being a human-sized robotic dinosaur really. Anton defied the stereotype of being a socially awkward genius just as much as Tony embraced it.

So when Anton Stark died in Afghanistan, the public mourned.

But when Tony Stark, sole Stark survivor of Afghanistan began to show up for debate tournaments, throwing parties and bringing along Ironman, the public cried.

It wasn’t the same. It will never be the same. But it was almost enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You could say Ironman is our little... mascot.” That earned a few chuckles from the reporters and small whispers of smiles from the government agents. Anton’s grin only faded once the laughter did, “Ironman shows the world StarkIndustries refuses to be used by terrorists, to be manipulated. Ironman is our offensive defense and I refuse to cross that thin threshold between that and turning Ironman into an outright weapon by giving it up to the military.”

“After Afghanistan,” A still bleeding wound that can be milked for all its worth for the people to suckle onto, “I find myself... there is very little in the way of people I can trust, I have discovered. Obadiah Stane was my role model, my uncle, my godfather... my advisor and my friend,” Anton wears vulnerability like his newest suit, perfectly. It helps that he still feels truly wretched about Obadiah’s betrayal. It’ll probably be a gaping wound for years. “And yet he was the one responsible for selling my weaponry under the table to terrorists.”

Appropriate gasps and noises of shock were made at the statement.

“Worse still, he was the one who hired the Ten Rings to take me and my,” Anton made choked a little, remember the horrors in that cave, what they have gone through, how Tony had suffered, “my brother.”

The gasps and hushed whispers were louder now. Anton can practically hear the room, how they immediately blame Obadiah for treason, greed and the loss of a Stark twin. With two words he has the whole room. Anton should feel guilty for doing this, using his brother, himself, but it was for himself, for his brother, for the both of them that he deceives.

And he cannot regret a single thing if it’s for themselves.

“You can understand why I’m so uneasy to trust at this moment.” He tells them, soft, tired, weary, lower your voice, make it hoarse, make them believe, “Why even now Stark Industries weapons business is being downsized and temporarily shut down. We’re working alongside the CIA and such for some serious housecleaning and we will be looking toward other business ventures for the company to make up for the losses.” Anton smiles, self-deprecating but strong, a hard combination but he can do it, Obie- Obadiah taught him well, “Anton always said we needed to branch out.”

Everyone, even the military guys, all collectively made sympathetic noises. Inwardly, Anton smiled. Even tortured and supposedly dead he’s still got it.

And Tony had been _worried_.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks after the return from Afghanistan. After Obie’s betrayal. Obie’s death. Anton asked Pepper out to her favorite Italian place.

She said yes.

 

A few weeks after the return from Afghanistan. After Obie’s betrayal. Obie’s death. Tony Stark realized that something was very wrong with the arc reactor.

He was dying.

 

* * *

 

Anton finds out. Of course he does.

It takes him about a month and a half. Usually, it would’ve been much faster considering their almost unhealthy dependence on each other but the younger twin had been on cloud nine since Pepper had started dating him.

There was a literal week where Ironman had to be put on hold because Tony had to pretend to be Anton pretending to be Tony because the real Anton didn’t leave his floor. And since Pepper was so kindly accompanying Anton, their self-imposed isolation meant that Tony had to handle some of Pepper’s shit, which was practically all Anton’s shit but with color-coded sticky notes. It was all very stressful and Tony ended up overriding the privacy protocols and sending a fire extinguisher-wielding Dummy up into his twins bedroom to run the couple back out into reality.

The point is. It takes a little while for Anton to notice. It takes the same amount of time for Tony to accept the inevitable. He’s dying. And there’s no way to save him now.

Anton however, does not share the same opinion.

 

* * *

 

“Drink your chlorophyll Tony,” Pepper sighs, handing the older Stark twin the cup of untouched smoothie, “Seriously, it’s starting to... clump.” Her nose delicately wrinkled in faint disgust. Tony doesn’t blame her. It’s not a pleasant thing to look at.

Anton told Pepper and Rhodey and Happy about Tony’s condition. Because while the two both share a stubbornness that could move mountains, it’s surprisingly Tony that has too much pride to admit his shortcomings. Anton is prideful sure, but he’s willing to throw that pride away and snitch like a little bitch if he realizes that it’ll get him what he wants. 

And what he wants is for Tony to fucking live.

“Give me a minute, I need to finish off the suit for Rhodey,” Tony mutters, eyes glued onto a hologram with schematics for a new suit in front of him. He needs to fit more ammunition in somehow, Rhodey is more fight than flight type of guy so he’ll discard the streamline design for a little more built.

Pepper purses her lips and if Tony had looked at her he would’ve seen the pained anguish in her eyes, “Tony... Rhodey doesn’t want this.”

Tony scoffed, “Please, he’s been practically drooling over Ironman, we both know he wants one.”

“Not like this!” Pepper bursts out, angry and so goddamn sad, “Dammit Tony, your brother is out there trying to find something, _anything_ to help you and you’re just, just signing off your will, giving up!”

“I’m glad you two got together,” Tony muses, dismissing her words completely, he was always good at that, Anton can’t back down from a verbal showdown but Tony likes to change the subject like no one’s business. “He’ll need your support when I’m gone.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Tony.” Anton rasps as he enters the workshop. He looks terrible and exhausted but his eyes are hard with rage and determination. “Don’t fucking say that shit.”

Tony smirked bitterly, “Anton, face it, I would need to discover or create a new element or something to replace the palladium.” Then cruelly he chuckles, “And trust me, if I can’t do it, _you_ certainly can’t.”

Anton punched him.

Again. And again.

They had to call Happy to pry the twins off each other and by then they were both covered in red marks that would bruise terribly in the morning. Tony cried and drank. Anton did the same thirty floors up.

 

* * *

 

There’s this new chick. Natalie Rushman. She’s Pepper’s new hire to help her out with all her work that’s been piling up recently. Anton was going to hire her but apparently having another hot redhead working under him wasn’t exactly met with approval from Pepper. Ex-supermodel lawyer or something.

Tony doesn’t see her much since she’s more in the business section of their lives and therefore he doesn’t really know her as a consequence. Anton doesn’t see her often either, to be honest, apparently, she kept coming on to him, and he had to firmly but gently tell her, in no uncertain circumstances to cease and desist. Pepper and HR were so very proud.

 

* * *

 

Tony wants to compete in the Monaco Historic Grand Prix.

“I’m dying.” He says with a wry grin, “Let me have some fun.”

So he competes.

And then some dick with electric whips attacks him.

Anton is forced to don on his own emergency Ironman armor, but of course, while it’s far more advanced than before, Anton hardly uses it as often as Tony. He defeats whip man, Vanko, obviously, but the suit is horribly damaged.

Worse. Anton is damaged.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The thing is, Justin Hammer and the Stark twins have history.

Justin and Anton secretly dated for a decent amount of time. It made sense, they thrive on being businessmen, showman, sly and cunning and opportunistic. Their version of foreplay was investing in companies and seeing whose total stocks rose higher. Apparently the sex

Unfortunately, Justin was a little too hungry for better things. He wanted the ‘better’ twin in his opinion. He wanted the smarter one. He wanted Tony. He wanted to _be_ Tony.

And Tony... Tony never even acknowledged him as anything other than that guy Anton was dating now. Tony didn’t think his engineering was good. Tony didn’t find him intelligent. And Tony certainly didn’t find him that interesting.

And _oh_ , how Justin seethed.

He dumped Anton, which was just as well because Anton was thinking about dumping him at the time anyway, already growing bored and wanting to move on to prettier things. It seemed altogether rather amiable. Justin even looked regretful about it, but Anton and Tony barely looked back. To Anton they could still be friends, he’s good with keeping things casual. To Tony... Tony didn’t notice. He had more important things on his mind than his brother’s ex.

But when Justin immediately sought after Tony, only a scant two weeks after the breakup, then that became a problem. Not a big problem mind. Just an inconvenient one.

Justin would come to any event the twins attended. He would try wow Tony with second-hand knowledge and second tier inventions despite even his best work barely up to par with Anton’s, well, maybe not worst works, but definitely down there.

It was embarrassing. Even Anton couldn’t muster up that much anger. “Pathetic,” he had sighed, after Hammer tried to outshine Tony at the new science exhibition opening and failed, “I sort of feel bad for him. He clearly has some sort of inferiority complex he can’t get over.”

“He’s a fucking dick, that’s what he is,” Tony scoffs angrily, “Look, now DUM-E’s all scared and I spent ages trying to teach him to be kid friendly! And I ended up shouting at him in front of the children Anton! The _children_!”

“Tony, come on, he’s just... maybe try to pay him some attention?”

“Did you not see me yelling at Hammer’s incompetence for five minutes straight?” Tony snaps, “How is that not giving him my attention, because believe me, most people would beg for me to tell them where they went wrong.”

“You told him that he should try getting into baking because it’s probably more his speed,” Anton says flatly.

“Baking is a very complicated art! I respect bakers! I do not respect Hammer though.”

Anton massaged his temples, he was always the more emotionally mature out of the pair, “For fuck's sake Tony, just compliment him and he’ll... well actually he definitely won’t back off but he’ll be less desperately aggressive about everything.” 

“Can’t I just sleep with him?” Tony whined. “I mean, I don’t really want to fuck him much less let him fuck _me_ but-“

“Unfortunately this is not a problem that can be solved through sex,” Anton mutters. “The problem is Justin Hammer is a businessman who wants to be an engineer, and well, I can sort of relate to that you know?”

“But _you_ are a businessman and an engineer.” Tony pointed out. “Both of which, are leagues better than Hammer.” Admittedly Hammer and Anton actually were probably on the same level in terms of business but Tony refuses to be objective about this. Hammer was a fucking dick who built shitty robots that malfunctioned and almost attacked a kid. Hammer could be the best businessman to ever business in man and Tony will insist he couldn’t sell a diamond for a nickel until he’s blue in the face.

Anton tilted his head in vague acknowledgment before speaking again, “Just, I get the feeling of wanting to try to be as smart as you Tony, I mean, I’ve made peace with being second place on the IQ listings but that doesn’t mean other people will.”

Tony bit his lip, Anton knew exactly how he would feel when he pulled out the ‘I’m the dumb twin card.’ After all, Anton may be lower in IQ but he certainly ran circles around Tony with EQ. Bastard.

“You really want me to be nicer to him huh?” Tony sourly asks.

“Just try.” 

“Ugh, fine. But you never bring this up again.”

“Only if you don’t do a shit job of it.”

Which totally meant Anton was going to bring it up again, wonderful.

“Fine.” Tony groused again because he can’t exactly say no, could he?

If Hammer wants Tony’s attention, he’s certainly got it now. Instead of ignoring the man, he goes out of his way to point out what Hammer’s done wrong, his inventions, his clothes, his handling of his staff. Try and correct him. Help him.

It doesn’t work. For some reason, Hammer got even more obnoxious and annoyingly needy. Anton says he’s doing it wrong. Tony doesn’t give a fuck. He has no fucks. His fucks for Hammer have flown off like geese in migration season that have gotten shot down by trigger-happy hunters and are never coming back. Why? Because he hates Hammer.

And of course, that asshole was going to bite him in the ass.

 

* * *

 

“You stupid fucking moron!” Tony screams later after the Grand Prix.

“Now you know how I feel,” Anton smirks as he lays down in bandages. “Doesn’t feel so good now does it?”

Tony splutters before he says, “Fuck you, don’t you ever do that again.” And leaves.

Two days later Anton’s Ironman suit has reinforced armor and is adjusted to better stand electrical attacks.

 

* * *

 

“Right, this is ridiculous Rhodey,” Tony complains. “I still need to design the new protective clothing line for the army that Anton had fucking promised your pack of military dogs in order to get them off our backs about Ironman. Not to mention I’m almost done with War Machine.”

“No Tony, _you’re_ ridiculous. Your brother is especially ridiculous. The plan to drag you out for sunlight and fresh air is genius. Hell, with all the chlorophyll crap your drinking you might even photosynthesize, and then I can cross feeding you off my list for today.”

“It’s actually pretty good once you get used to it. I added strawberries and ice cream in this one.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s only good because you put strawberries and ice cream in it,” Rhodey says, amused.

 

* * *

 

The thing is, even with Tony's shy charm and Anton's charismatic personality, neither could really nail the whole first impression thing. Rhodey's first impression of Tony was a drunk horny rich kid, and Anton was a crazy psycho who just heavily implied murder to his face. Pepper got arrogant crass walking sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen from Anton and rude, callous, know it all from Tony.

Hell, they don’t even make a good second impression. Or a third. Or a fourth. Or a- anyway, it took a lot of time and effort and a certain level of patience and the ability to see through years of bullshitting experience before they could even begin to see beneath the mask. Tony was a people pleaser to those he liked and Anton was the enabler. Tony made and Anton bought. Anton never forgot a date or a meeting and Tony never missed a deadline, and if he did, it was only because he was improving the product further than anyone asked him to.

Pepper learned that if you wanted the suave businessman you called the younger Stark, and if R&D needed help the elder Stark was the one to summon. That they were both sweet and funny and thoughtful in their own weird, eccentric convulsed ways.

Rhodey learned that if you wanted sweet, nerdy time to hang out and chill with you give the older Stark a call, and if you wanted a wingman to help you score some pretty ladies at a club it was the younger Stark to ring up. He found they were both sarcastically quippy, childish and stupid in their own special ways.

The Stark twins may not have nailed the first impression, but they certainly leave a lasting one. 

And Rhodey and Pepper have no intention of letting it fade. 

So that’s how they find SHIELD.

 

* * *

 

“Anton, get Tony into the Ironman suit and to come to the address Rhodey’s going to text you.” Pepper orders one day early in the morning. And when Anton says early in the morning he means, eleven o’clock, which, to be perfectly fair was incredibly early for a Sunday and seriously, they just had incredible mind-blowing sex last night and it’s a little rude that she had left just to wake him up via phone call.

“Mblegh.” Is what Anton says.

“Tony. Ironman. Twenty minutes.”

“Bubleck.” He garbles back, face still half-smashed into his pillow.

“Yes. Twenty minutes.”

“Nfmn pfth.”

“I know,” Pepper says fondly, and wow, even Anton wasn’t sure what he meant but trust Pep to know.

God, he loves that woman.

 

* * *

 

Natasha originally thought the assignment beneath her. Watch over Tony Stark? Child’s play.

Of course literally nothing went right and she was forced to reconsider her initial opinions. Tony was not as easy to manipulate as she had first thought. He was unwilling to be distracted by her.. assets and was more than committed to his newfound relationship with Miss Potts. Stark has definitely changed from what she has seen, not that she could see much to be honest.

She wasn’t going to lie, not to herself at least.

And Miss Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts especially was… formidable.

Strong, intelligent, beautiful. In her more whimsical thoughts, Natasha actually thinks she and her could’ve made quite a pair if she hadn’t tried to pursue Tony Stark after being told by Potts herself to, in no uncertain terms, back off. Apparently, you don’t push Pepper Potts unless you wanted to be shoved.

Off a cliff.

Natasha respected the hell out of her.

So when Pepper invited her for brunch, after months of nothing but ice cold professionalism, she had readily accepted. Maybe a little too eagerly but she _was_ playing the part of Natalie Rushman. Who also respected the hell out of her. Like. A lot.

Okay, maybe Natasha just wants to have brunch with Pepper. 

She dresses up smartly in preparation for it. Nothing too scandalous as she had chosen to outfit herself in the beginning, that was a mistake that failed to endear her to anyone except some of the more sleazy businessmen in the workplace. Nothing too proper, in case it comes off as overcompensating. Smart casual is a hard balance to place but Natasha can’t help but feel she has definitely nailed it.

Hair pulled back, buttons all done up but colors soft and pastel, she looks good. Natasha packs make up and small weaponry disguised as makeup, her favorite blade, and an emergency communication device if anything goes south. She had been ready for anything.

Once again, she wasn’t ready for Miss Pepper Potts.

 

* * *

 

There’s a saying, _‘Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.’_ Or was it, _‘Always bring a gun to a knife fight’_?

Either way, Natasha thought, to bring a gun, a taser, a veteran who apparently has access to Stark’s repulser weaponry and drugs in her drink was a little overkill.

“Are you going to take us to SHIELD Ms. Rushman?” Pepper says coolly and with a raise of her perfectly plucked eyebrow she adds, “Or is it Romanov?”

Natasha has no idea what’s wrong with her but she wants to be Pepper’s friend now. so. badly.

 

* * *

 

“I feel like we’ve missed something,” Anton says back in the tower, watching from the camera in Tony’s faceplate.

“Agreed.” Tony, Ironman, tacks on, the modulator even through the channels inside the suit, blocking out the incredulity in his voice. “Why is Miss Rushman tied up with Stark prototype body cuffs?”

Inwardly Anton winces at the sight, that particular invention was his project after all, and yeah, it works okay, he’s particularly proud of the motion constriction sensors- but it was a disgustingly ugly design, gunmetal grey and clunky in a way that brings back the image of that marshmallow ghost from Ghostbusters. Tony doesn’t think so but then again, Anton’s always been the more artistic and fashion-forward of the two. Unfortunately, they do not share the same opinions on that topic.

“Miss Rushman has kindly informed us of a possible way to help with our little.. problem.” Pepper informs them both brightly. “She’s also a spy for some secret organization called SHIELD.”

“Should you really be telling someone like him this?” Rushman, if that really was her name, asked coolly, eyes cold and assessing as she took in Ironman. Tony can’t help but shudder at her icy demeanor, Anton shared a similar sentiment, possibly more unnerved than his brother since he had been more personally acquainted with her false persona. The contrast was quite jarring to say the least.

“Ironman is one of us,” Rhodey growls possessively, apparently far more angry than Pepper about founding a spy in their midst. Though in reality, it is Pepper that is probably leagues above in rage than Rhodey, a shouting outburst from her means anger, but it’s when she gets all quiet and smiley that’s when you should really be afraid.

She smiles blandly at Rushman, “Indeed.” She agrees curtly, eyes flinty and lips pursed. Tony has the overwhelming urge to buy Pepper new shoes. He’s pretty sure Anton’s already done it. “Now why don’t you take us to your leader?”

Both Rhodey and Tony chuckled, immediately earning some ire from Pepper, but it was tinged with exasperation and fondness.

Natasha watches, consideringly.

 

* * *

 

SHIELD’s leader was a one eyed guy named Nick Fury.

Nick Fury knew about Vanko.

Nick Fury was the one who planted Natasha Romanov.

Nick Fury was the one who suspected there might be issues with the reactor.

Nick Fury has a bunch of Howard Stark’s shit that may or may not hold the cure that everyone was desperately searching for.

Nick Fury was a fucking dickbag.

But that’s okay.

They found it.

 

* * *

 

“You both are, my greatest creations.”

Anton did _not_ cry. 

Tony also did _not_ cry.

They both, by mutual agreement, _did not cry._

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a near thing. Tony, the bastard, had hidden how far along he was. Anton should never have agreed to super secret ultimate override codes for JARVIS. To be fair, the super secret ultimate override codes are mostly for kinky sex stuff that one twin doesn’t want the other twin to see- Tony couldn’t look at him in the eyes for a week after accidentally witnessing the ah, furry incident of ‘99- so it wasn’t like Anton ever thought of overriding it for something like this. Fuck, he’s going to program a ‘possibly secretly dying like a bastard’ clause into the information override codes for JARVIS to use after this bullshit.

Anton was the one who had to finish up the new element, badassium, because Tony collapsed midway through it. His legs just simply gave way much to both their dismay and surprise. By the time Anton pulled out the new element, ready for use, Tony was breathing heavily, eyed on the verge of closing as the disgusting black veins on his skin kept creeping higher and higher.

“I think I’m the only one in the world who can actually say- I’m going to bring you back to life just to kill you again.” Anton hisses through his wet eyes and clenched teeth. His hands were trembling from the stress of it all when he finally replaced Tony’s arc reactor. Just another layer of horrifying nightmare fodder to haunt him with, overlapping uncomfortably with Afghanistan.

Anton wonders how many times Tony must suffer? How many times must Anton watch his brother hurt? How many times until the Stark brothers stop drowning in their sins?

Tony would probably say something like ‘there’s no point dwelling on stuff like that, all we can do is our best’. Tony was, is, always persistent like that, always insisting that they could be better people than they were.

Anton always smiles and laughs but inside he disagrees. He worries. He fears that there is always a number, and their best will still never reach it.

While Tony is resting, recovering, Anton takes the time to mourn their lives lost.

 

* * *

 

Tony wakes up.

He wakes up with a new and improved arc reactor in his chest and a tired worn down twin sleeping by his side. His mouth tastes faintly of metal and blood and, oddly enough, coconuts. The older Stark wonders if this is how there life is going to be now. Dangerous, tiring, scary.

But Tony can’t stop now, not when they’ve finally started doing something he knows in his bones is _right_. 

Still, while he watches the steady breathing on his twin’s face, the dark bags under his eyes, the faint track of tears on his cheeks, he takes the time to mourn their lives lost. 

 

* * *

 

There’s this video. It was a long time ago. During a time where the closest thing to going ‘viral’ was magazines going over it with the occasional official newspapers and shows. Tony and Anton had gatecrashed a dance competition on a dare.

Well, not so much as gatecrashed as it was a very, very last minute entry.

They had burst into the dance hall with sunglasses on and suits so expensive they could probably exchange them for a relatively cheap car. Tony with a jacket and pants colored with a deep red, just one tone above the darkness of blood, and Anton glittering in gold, they had no ties, but a handkerchief of their twins’ colors folded in their breast pockets.

Anton remembers Tony grinning and throwing a wad of cash at the shocked employees at the time.

Tony remembers an equally grinning Anton snatching up their number, 84, with a cocky little, “Thank you.”

They are the only male pairing but no one protests, not just because of the money, but because of the curiosity. Tony and Anton wait for their turn, but eyes are always drifting to them, away from the dances they are supposed to watch in favor of the handsome young twins. They drape around each other, red bleeding onto gold, gold bleeding into red, with bright whiskey eyes, youthful bodies, and charmingly sharp smiles, they are intoxicating to watch. 

And then they dance.

It’s fast. Dramatic. Powerful. It’s a tango and it’s somehow so appropriate. They dance for dominance, switching the male and female roles, challenging the other to move better, faster, stronger. Tony slips out of his brother’s grasp with a sharp spin, sliding behind Anton like a snake, arms outstretched as he pulls him back toward his chest, into his embrace. Anton falls back with a half snarl, a half grin on his face, pushing forward like a lion reasserting his place with a roar, chest up, hands gripped harshly on shoulder and hand as he forces Tony to step back.

Even fighting, they are in sync, their hips swaying to the same beat and there is never a point in the dance where they truly separate from each other. There’s a point where it almost looks like the pair is about to break the growing furious tension with a kiss, the ultimate act of sinful depravity and yet an entrancing vision of symmetry. It leaves the viewers breathless. Wanting.

It’s both a sweet relief and a suffocating disappointment when they move apart to complete their piece, the fire slowly burning down from something hungry and passionate to something soft and simmering. The music ends and the Stark twins once again drape over each other, Tony wrapped around his brother’s body as he is dipped down, while Anton has his head against his counterpart’s collarbone, posed possessively, teeth bared against Tony’s exposed curve of neck in a twisted, indecent visage of fraternal protection, domination, supplication and above all love.

The applause was outstanding.

They still have the trophies in their rooms.

 

* * *

 

Tony as Ironman and Rhodey as War machine had chased him down to Hammer’s factory. They fight. They win. Vanko seemingly commits suicide by an explosion, but Tony remembers the way Anton was hurt from the man’s attacks, burnt flesh from the electric whip still marking his skin, and he knows he _has_ to make sure. Faking your death was a cliche but a good one. Tony knows firsthand of it. He finds the Russian, struggling but alive.

On the other hand, there is Anton who watches Hammer get arrested. Romanov is off talking to her superiors while Anton keeps an eye on his old friend. He wants to groan and sigh and blame Tony for not humoring Hammer, maybe the man wouldn’t have turned out like this if his brother had heeded his advice, or maybe it was always destined to be like this, maybe Justin Hammer was always going to be this desperate, sad man-child looking for ways to be better than he could ever possibly be. It doesn’t matter either way. Hammer tried to hurt him, hurt Tony, he is a threat that Anton can’t afford, not when there were so many unknown enemies in the future, hiding in every shadow of their past.

Vanko dies by Tony’s hand.

Hammer is murdered by Anton’s.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers

 

Tony was the thinker. The planner. He crunches the numbers and correlates and extrapolates. In Tony’s head, he has plans upon plans, backups upon backups, failsafes upon failsafes.

 

Anton is more of a risk taker. He has plans and backups like Tony, but he embraces the ridiculous frivolity of the world known as luck and happenstance. Anton knows that he cannot plan as many contingencies like his brother, but he can adapt quickly, he is far more flexible with unknown variables thrown their way. It was why he was always better handling the press, Tony would freeze the moment someone asked him an unexpected question, needing to recompute his carefully formulated answers, but Anton barely even blinks as he smoothly spouts off bullshit with a shark-like smile.

 

Tony used to complain about that, especially when they were younger, when their differences were more apparent when their flaws were so obvious. “How can you just, do that?” He would ask frustrated behind closed doors, “How did you know she was going to ask us that?”

“I didn’t,” Anton would shrug back, puzzled at why someone as smart as his brother couldn’t understand, “S’just quick thinking that’s all.”

 

Tony then would purse his lips in that way that conveyed he was beyond unimpressed at the explanation. “I think fast.” He says sulkily. “Remember when we saw dad’s blueprints and I immediately found his mistake? That was super fast.”

 

“But that’s a different thing ain’t it?” Anton frowns back. “I mean, maybe it’s just cuz you don’t like crowds and all the pressure and stuff you blanked then. You’ll probably get used to it.”

 

“I better,” Tony mutters as he remembers the absolute reaming he got from their father afterward. God Tony hates how stupid he is at this stuff. Why couldn’t people be like math problems and be satisfied with one answer?

 

Anton grins, “Don’t worry,” he says, “Even if you don’t, I’ll help protect you.”

 

“N’uh,” Tony protests but now he’s grinning too, “I’m the oldest one, that means I have to protect you!”

 

“You’re only older by like, a minute and a half!”

 

“Four minutes and sixteen seconds,” Tony replies smugly.

 

Anton makes a face at him. “You know, one day you’ll be so old you’ll wish you’re four minutes and sixteen seconds younger like me.”

 

Tony scoffs, “Yeah right.”

 

Tony is the planner, the calculator. He is the architect that builds and devises and creates the impossible from the possible. Anton is the wild card, the artist. He is the designer to his brother’s architect, polishing, improving and finding the possible from the impossible. Together they are unstoppable. Together they’re ready for anything.

 

Well, until the whole ‘alien invasion’ thing.

 

* * *

 

“Huh. Well whaddaya know,” Anton drawls as a SHIELD agent comes up from the elevator, Tony has texted him the breach just a few seconds ago so Anton was sufficiently prepared, “If it isn’t the Agents who thought they could, no wait, the Agents of the legless round table, fuck,”

 

Okay, so when Anton said sufficiently prepared he meant just enough not to jump in shock at the intruder but definitely not enough for a clever quippy pun. If Tony were here they could play it off, make a fun game of it in front of the agent but unfortunately, Tony is playing dead and trying to figure out how some stupid secret agency managed to hack JARVIS well enough for them not to have noticed the breach in security.

 

Pepper pats his shoulder consolingly, it feels both comforting and condescending at once. “Why don’t you sit down baby and finish your drink while the adults talk?”

 

“I get absolutely no respect around here,” Anton complained but complied obediently, albeit with exaggerated sulkiness that he knew amused his lover greatly. He takes a sip before making an annoyed clicking sound and pointing at the SHIELD agent with his wine glass, “And you, you might as well sit down and tell us why you came before we call the cops about your little B and E, Stark Industries has made great friends with law enforcement these days and if we make the call I’m fairly sure no pizza delivery guy is going to beat them here.” Fairly sure. Pizza delivery service here is pretty amazing these days.

 

 _Oooh,_ they totally need to order from Little C’s soon. It’s been far too long since he’s had their Mediterranean pizza. It’s so good. Damn. Maybe tomorrow.

 

The agent gave him a bland smile and failed to comply with Anton’s sitting down suggestion. Which. Totally rude.

 

“Agent,” Pepper says politely enough but there’s a faint undercurrent of warning there, “you should sit as well.”

 

The Agent immediately complies, looking at the woman with far more fear and respect, which, while completely understandable, does not make it any less rude. Like, come on. He doesn’t want to be that guy but it’s _his_ tower, come on. 

 

“What do you want then, Agent?” Anton does not sulk.

 

“Please, I am Agent Phil Coulson,” the man says courteously, but with as little emotional inflection one could possibly make without coming off cold. It was like the man screamed unassuming and bland. While Tony and he had done some research about SHIELD they hadn’t really personally met anyone from there other than Fury and Natasha. However Natasha had come off the whole situation looking incompetent and like any other corporate spy that exploited their good looks, and Fury had quite a… personality that suited a drill sergeant than a spy. Phil Coulson though, that’s the sort of guy Anton and Tony always imagined a real spy would be like.

 

“Alright, Agent Agent Phil Coulson,” Anton smiles charmingly, “You have two minutes to tell me what you want before I kindly ask you to leave the premises immediately.”

 

Pepper’s phone buzzes and when she glances down at it, her posture immediately relaxes, making Anton relax as well. Tony must not have found anything too suspicious then. His smile becomes a touch less fake in response.

 

“We need you to look at this,” Agent Agent Phil Coulson says, getting straight to the point and handing out a file toward Anton. “As soon as possible.”

 

Anton looks at Pepper who takes the file and hands it to him. “Thank you,” He gratefully tells her and they both share a smile.

 

Then they talk about the Avengers Initiative.

 

* * *

 

Tony, Ironman was already deemed suitable for the Avengers Initiative on a part-time basis. Part-time partly because SHIELD is squeamish about bringing in anyone when they don’t have a solid grasp on their personality or background, and partly because neither Anton nor Tony were very interested in working under SHIELD in the first place. They were used to being the bosses of their own thing, they had each other, Pepper and Rhodey as their team, they’re able to let my Ironman out with the public and government’s blessing, and honestly, it wasn’t like they weren’t capable of retrieving whatever information SHIELD has as well.

 

There was literally nothing SHIELD could offer the twins that would benefit them save some extra firepower. And even then it was a little iffy.

 

“Other than Banner I’m not exactly psyched about this lineup,” Anton complains as he flies in a more stripped down version of the Ironman suit to the Helicarrier. Just because Ironman was his official bodyguard didn’t mean Anton wasn’t willing to wear the armour at all, however for the public’s reassurance, he and Tony decided the ‘Tony Stark civilian’ suit should be more aerodynamic, focusing on speed and escape tactics than power and weaponry. Not that there wasn’t weaponry. A good offense was the best defense after all.

 

“Really?” Tony sarcastically replies as he diverges slightly from his brother to head to the given coordinates for the commotion happening in Germany. “I didn’t realize, thank you for clarifying this to me for the fiftieth time.”

 

“It’s just,” Anton says, clearly ignoring his brother which was such a dick move because Anton established this private conversation between suits in the first place and had done something to make sure Tony couldn’t override and mute him whilst in said suit. “Okay fine seeing Captain America in the flesh will be kind of cool but it’s not like he’ll do much in comparison to us. Then we have Natalie-“

 

“Natasha.”

 

“- _Natalie_ , who let’s face it seems to be only there because this whole team is a sausage fest and gender diversity is important.”

 

“Well, I mean,” Tony hesitates because he’s not exactly _wrong_. After all, despite the fairly impressive resume they saw on the file, and the even more impressive body count through their own investigation, the only things they know of her personally was that she failed to infiltrate Stark Industries. Which, while understandably hard to do, does not make her very capable in their eyes. “She could be for, uh, espionage stuff?”

 

“That’s why they made SHIELD in the first place.” Anton brutally points out, “Her whole ‘secret secret’ crap flies immediately out the window once she joins the very public avengers. I mean yeah, maybe for negotiations and infiltration she’ll be good but come on. This project has been in the making for how long? And they couldn’t even get like, an X-men or a mutant.”

 

That was also a valid point. Recently, especially that last two years or so, mutant activity was starting to form and gain attention, opinions on them were varied and unfortunately skewed toward the negative. It would’ve been much more beneficial to have picked a mutant for the Avengers Initiative in the long run.

 

“They probably would have if they had a mutant under their employment. Well, one they can trust anyway.” Tony snorts, from what he understands from gleaming the files, with an agency as paranoid as SHIELD it would be impossible for them to trust anyone more powerful than the average human much less find someone that would trust them. Having Captain America fall into their laps was quite the boon really.

 

Knowing exactly what Tony was thinking Anton makes the verbal equivalent of a scowl. “Or one they could control like Captain Popsicle.”

 

“Anton...” Tony groans.

 

“What? I’m just _saying_!”

 

“Look I don’t have time for- I have Loki in my sights, will reach in three minutes,” Tony, reports.

 

“Good, blast some kick-ass music,” Anton replies as he arrives deftly on the quinjet. “Also how does he look?”

 

“Can’t get a clear visual, Captain America-“ Tony makes a very short, high pitched and very unmanly sound that only fanboys and girls can achieve, “is blocking the view.”

 

“Not that you’re complaining,” his twin says bemused, “also don’t think I’m going to forget you just fan-gasmed just by saying the guy’s name near him.”

 

“I did not-“

 

“Get ready, Tones.” Anton suddenly warns.

 

Tony rolls his eyes. Such a worrywart, “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters and with a well-practiced movement, he flies toward the ongoing fight down below, blasting someone who Tony assumes is Loki given the frankly ridiculously obvious villain get up before touching down, pulling out every flashily menacing pieces of weaponry that the suit has. “Make your move, Reindeer Games.”

 

Inside the quinjet, Anton chortles as he listens in.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey, who’s more your type tincan, Loki or Thor?” Anton asks gamely while he works alongside Bruce. Tony, inside the Ironman armor, crosses his arms and hums while his mind whirs as he takes in the data spread out on his helmet screen.

 

“Both are gorgeous.” Tony muses, “I do like the muscles on Thor but there’s something about the image of being pinned down by Loki, god of Chaos, that makes me weak.”

 

Anton clicked his fingers and pointed at his brother triumphantly, “I know right! It’s gotta be that edge of crazy in his eyes that’s getting me hot and bothered under the collar. Then again, Thor seems like the earnest golden retriever type which is kind of nice too. What do you think Dr Banner?”

 

“Um.” Dr Banner says uncomfortably, “Are you guys always like this?”

 

The twins look at each other and shrug simultaneously, though Tony had to exaggerate his own gesture considerably to show it through the armor. “Pretty much Dr Banner.” He replies. It’s a pity how little inflection he can convey, everything he says sounds deadpan, “We’re, like, totally besties.”

 

Anton wags his finger at Banner playfully, “And don’t try to change the subject, good sir.”

 

“I’m, ah, kind of straight?” Banner tried. It didn’t work.

 

Anton snorted, “I’m also ‘kind of’ straight. C’mon, hypothetically, who is the most bangable god?”

 

“You don’t have to listen to bossman over there if you don’t want to Dr Banner,” Tony sighs fondly, before adding, “But seriously, I would go Loki all the way, he seems like the fashionable, sassy one with brains, and I like that.”

 

“Wait, are we talking about dating them or having sex with them?” Banner asks, “Because depending on the answer I need to change mine.”

 

Anton raises an eyebrow, “Okay, now I’m intrigued- by the way, I would bang Loki, date Thor and marry Ironman.”

 

“Wha- why are we adding more rules to this?!” Tony groans, and also, he knows they need to keep their covers but ugh, so much ew.

 

“Um, I think I would have sex with Loki, date Ironman, marry Thor.” Banner decides finally with a decisive nod, before blinking and amending with, “Actually, date Thor, marry Ironman. I don’t think I could take the pressure of being part of alien warrior royalty.”

 

“I’m not sure that I appreciate that being the only reason you’ll accept my ring on your finger, Doctor.” Tony laughed, earning a small twitchy smile from the other.

 

“And what about you Ironman?” Anton winks, “Fuck, date or marry?”

 

“Wait, he can’t do it if one of the options is himself right?” Banner asks curiously.

 

“Well, who do we replace Ironman with?” Anton looks at the doctor expectantly, both twins were delighted that _the_ Doctor Bruce Banner was actually giving some serious thought into this.

 

“Fury.” He says finally, triumphantly, and Anton laughs as loud as Tony groans.

 

For the record, Tony would fuck the hell out of Thor and marry the fuck out of Loki.And Fury can just fuck off.

 

* * *

 

“Take away your bodyguard’s fancy suit and what are you?” Captain America sneers.

 

“Uh, a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?” Anton smirked, rubbing his nails against his chest before blowing on them arrogantly. Anton’s good at brushing away insults but that doesn’t make it stop stinging, Tony can see the way his counterpart’s shoulders are tense, angry, hurt. It makes him boil.

 

“Mr Stark without the suit is more than _you_ could ever be without the serum Captain.” Tony, Ironman, steps in. He wishes the voice modulator was more emotive but the fury and derision were clear enough. “Everything that makes you special comes out of a bottle.”

 

It sort of snowballs from there. Tony felt bad for the Captain, he didn’t know that he picked a two for one deal in the Stark department, but the man certainly gave as good as he got. Bringing their father into it was a low blow and Tony can finally see what Anton had been telling him all those years back when they were teenagers.

 

Captain America was a Grade A asshole.

 

Fuck. Tony owed Anton so much money after this.

 

* * *

 

“You know that’s a one way trip Ironman?” Captain America asks.

 

Tony grimaces at the reminder as he flies toward the portal with a nuke. Like, fucking obviously. This wasn’t exactly his first choice for… anything really.

 

“Sir-“ JARVIS begins, but Tony already knows what he was about to say.

 

“Patch him in JARV,” he orders, he doesn’t have time to be polite.

 

JARVIS pauses for a bit before he complies.

 

“Don’t, don’t you fucking dare Tony,” is the first thing Anton says, low and hoarse and terrified, “Don’t you, Tony, please, don’t, _please_ ,”

 

“I’m sorry Anton. Tell Pep and Rhodey, sorry too.” Tony whispers, he’s close to the portal now. It’s terrifyingly vast now that he’s so close into it. He doesn’t want that to be the last thing he’ll ever see.

 

He doesn’t want to die.

 

“Tony, don’t,” Anton sobs, “don’t.”

 

“I love you.” Tony murmurs and then he ends the call.

 

 

* * *

 

Shawarma was an inside joke between Tony and Anton.

 

They were gourmets, it was hard not to be growing up rich like they did. They have tried _whale_. Which isn’t exactly ethical now, but the point is they, at one point, had consumed dried whale meat in Japan. And jellyfish noodles. And haggis. But not shawarma.

 

Shawarma was like that one classic movie you promise yourself you’ll get around to watching soon but never do because of reasons. Shawarma was like the weekend road trip you and your friends planned in passing but never got about actually doing it. Shawarma is like telling people you’re planning to volunteer your holidays helping sick African dolphins but ended up never getting around to filling in the application.

 

So when Anton got a text from Tony ( _‘Not dead. No one kissed me. We’re getting shawarma, you gotta come.’_ ) about shawarma, he laughed till he cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi~~
> 
> Okayy, omg I've wanted to do something like this for like, ages!
> 
> I mean, twins! Identity porn! TWINS! 
> 
> Cannot wait for the Avengers movie chapter next!!
> 
> If you like my work, please leave a tip on my ko-fi page <3
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/hweianime/


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